


Try, Try again

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Tales from the Communal Kitchen (the ex-assassins files) [25]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Captain America (Movies), Deadpool - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Fuck Or Die, HYDRA Trash Party adjacent, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Oral Sex, Sex Pollen, most of the non con takes place offscreen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:03:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Madam Hydra’s most successful project was Snowmelt; breeding children from the Winter Soldier. When she returns unexpectedly from the dead, she decides that Tony Stark will be a good donor for a new wave of experiment children. But first, she needs genetic material. And for that, she has a special drug for Tony.





	Try, Try again

**Author's Note:**

> We filled a lot of squares with this... on three different cards, so we’re feeling a little impressed with ourselves. Also, it’s super long, so enjoy.
> 
> This is a sex-pollen story, so you know your own emotional state best. The non-con in this is between Tony and Ophelia, with some references back to Ophelia doing the same thing to Bucky in the past. The actual rapes take place off camera.
> 
> This is a Communal Kitchen fic and takes place some time after Proposal of Doom and before End of Tomorrow. If you’re not a reader of that series; Bucky has three children through the Snowmelt project, of which Rikki Barnes is his eldest and is about 19-20 years old at the time of this story. She is dating Negasonic Teenage Warhead from the Deadpool movies. In the very first story, Ophelia kidnaps Tony and Bucky with the intention of making Tony an Asset. They thought she was dead. None of this is particularly important to the story here, just background info.

Tony woke up with a terrible headache, a sharp pain in his arm, and the feeling that he was somewhere he really _should not be_. Slitting his eyes revealed that the room had dim lighting, so someone was being courteous to his hangover, at least.

“Good morning, Mr. Stark,” a woman’s voice said, and the stinging thing was withdrawn from his arm. “It’s a delight to have you with us, again. Very exciting.” That voice was oddly familiar and made his stomach crawl, looking for an exit. He couldn’t move. A dark shape moved around, blurry as he blinked, trying to clear his eyes. He tried to pull his hand down to scrub at his face, but something held his wrist.

 _Damn it, not again_. Tony pulled at the restraints on his wrists again, just to be sure, and then looked up, squinting into the dark blur and trying to find the woman’s face. “Not bad,” he quipped. “Slept pretty well, but I’ve got to say the wake up service is sorely lacking. Four out of ten.”

“You certainly slept quite a long while,” she agreed. “Perhaps being _borrowed_ is good for you. I’d have let you sleep, but I’m afraid I’m running against our deadline. How are you feeling?” The woman slowly came into focus. Long, midnight black hair tucked into a twist that draped over one shoulder. Even from Tony’s supine position, he could tell she was very tall. Slender. Her face was hidden by a half-mask, plain white with an eyeslit. The other hand was beautiful, and her eyes were emerald green.

Her mouth turned up in an almost flirtatious smile when she noticed him staring. “Do I look familiar to you, Mr. Stark?”

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Tony said. “Which is very confusing, because I never remember my dates. It’s a matter of principle.” His ankles were strapped down, too, individually, which was harder to escape than a single strap across both of them.

“It’s too bad, really,” she said, and she ran a hand down his body, from chest to hip. Even through his clothes, the touch was… oddly sensual. “I don’t remember meeting you before, although I must have. It’s disappointing. There’s not a lot of satisfaction in besting an enemy one has forgotten.” She sighed, then started unbuttoning his shirt. “Would you like a drink, before we get started?”

“I feel like the drinks here are really subpar,” Tony said, and couldn’t quite stop himself from trying to squirm away from where she was touching him, even knowing it was futile. “On the other hand, if it will postpone the torture, then I’m all for it.”

“I’m not going to torture you, Mr. Stark,” she said, turning her back on him. She crossed the room and brought back a water bottle with a bent-nozzle, the sort that boxers used. “Here. It’s only water, but I wouldn’t want you to get dehydrated. That’s inefficient.” She offered it to him.

Tony let her squirt some of the water into his mouth -- it was lukewarm, but didn’t have any weird aftertastes that suggested it might be drugged or poisoned. “Lady,” he said when he swallowed, “I have been around this block before, and there are only three reasons someone takes off my shirt for me, and you don’t look like a medical professional or my husband, so that leaves us with door number three.”

“Tedious,” she said. She put the water bottle aside, lifted her hands and unsnapped the mask, showing her scarred face. “Did I ever introduce myself? I have many names, but perhaps Sarkissian is one you would know. Your husband was one of my greatest successes.” She put the white porcelain down and faced him. “I don’t always like to show off my scars, you must understand. But for some reason, my benefactors decided to carry them forward. A nuisance. When I complete my work here, I will correct it.”

There was a heat in his blood, warm and faint, but decidedly _there_.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Mr. Stark,” Ophelia Sarkissian said. “Not unless you ask me to.”

It was an odd sensation, having his blood run cold despite that strange heat. Sarkissian was _dead_. Bucky had literally cut her heart out of her body. “I know Hydra has that whole ‘cut off one head and two more grow’ thing going for it,” he said, fighting to maintain his cool exterior, “but I didn’t know they’d branched out into regrowing lost vital organs.”

Sarkissian looked down at herself, then slowly unbuttoned her shirt, discarding the green blouse on the floor. She wore a lacy black bra underneath. Her fingers skated down pale skin, over her sternum. “No scars here,” she said. “I can only imagine what they believed they were doing when they built this body. Who did it? Was it you who wielded the knife against me, or was it the Soldier?”

Sarkissian’s body really should _not_ be doing anything for him, certainly not in circumstances like these, but Tony’s dick stirred and his skin heated. “How the fuck are you alive, lady?”

“I’m not,” she said, simply. “It’s too bad. You’re a beautiful man, Tony Stark. I might have enjoyed this, once. Having you here.” She pushed his shirt off, until the sleeves were catching on his arms. She went to work on his trousers with equal efficiency, both oddly cheerful and somehow clinical at the same time. “Here, lift up, would you?” She traced one finger over the front panel of his boxers.

Tony had to fight the urge to squirm, and even harder not to push up into that teasing touch, because his body was suddenly _burning_ with need. “Don’t see why I should be helping you, whatever the hell you think you’re doing,” he panted.

“It’s up to you, of course,” she said, like that was even possible. Like he had any choices. She stroked him again, through his boxers and that was one reaction he couldn’t possibly conceal. She gave him a sweet, encouraging smile that twisted her scars. “I know you want it. Your heart rate’s already up nearly fourteen percent. Your time here can be quite pleasant, Mr. Stark, but I will get what I need, regardless.”

Tony was a genius; it wasn’t hard to figure out what she was after, now. “What if I refuse to cooperate?” he challenged her. “I am actually able to have a hard-on and not do anything with it.” It was half-bullshit, though, because he felt like he was on _fire_. If it got any worse, he’d be shooting off untouched.

Sarkissian bent over him, and then her tongue flicked out, over his nipple. There was something odd about her mouth as she fastened on him, teasing at his skin. Her body temperature, maybe, was several degrees cooler than it should be, especially for the inside of her mouth. When she pulled back, his skin was still dry. How was that possible that she have no spit whatsoever? “Do you really think you won’t? I can dose you again, if you’re really having trouble, Mr. Stark. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. Performance issues happen.”

“One out of five,” Tony said. “I’m just saying, you’re not up to my usual standard.”

She actually looked offended, like he’d hurt her feelings. One hand went up to her scarred face and she grimaced. “Very well,” she said. She returned to the small table and brought back a syringe. She filled it with a cloudy green liquid from a vial. “It took five doses to get what I wanted from the Soldier, but they were such very lovely children, don’t you think? The eldest in particular. I was very proud of them. My greatest successes. Until you stole them from me.”

She stabbed the needle in Tony’s arm and depressed the plunger.

That made Tony mad enough to almost forget about whatever she was shooting him up with. “We didn’t steal them, they _left_. Maybe you should have treated them like children instead of soldiers.”

She hissed at him, like a snake. “If you hadn’t _killed me_ , if you hadn’t interfered with Hydra at every opportunity, my dau-- the children would have been _fine_! Rebecca was doing fine, until _he_ cut our funding.” She straightened up, rubbing at her face with one hand. She threw the syringe into the trash. “But no matter, Stark. You will give me new children.” She stroked him again. “I understand the second dose comes on faster. How are you feeling?”

Horny enough to fuck a bucket of mud, but Tony would bite off his tongue before he admitted it aloud. “Is it getting a little warm in here?” he managed. “Who cut your funding? Why? I feel like I should send flowers or something.”

“Pierce,” she snarled. “For his Project Insight.” She tugged this time, yanking Tony’s pants down around his thighs. “And for what? _Nothing_. Hydra exposed to the world, nothing gained.” She eyed him clinically. “Are you ready to begin? Each dose you receive will exacerbate the effects. Five doses and the Soldier was sobbing with need, begging. Do you want to go that route? I will, if you continue to be insulting. Or I can get it over with, and you’ll be yourself again in, perhaps six hours?”

There was no way Tony was going to survive five doses, not if it had hit Bucky that hard. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to deal with even _one_ more dose. Still, he bared his teeth at Sarkissian. “Honey, I have never done anything the easy way in my _life_.”

“Perhaps not,” she said. She held up one finger, showed it to him, then touched him, just the one finger, running down his chest. “Let’s find out.”

***

Sarkissian tucked the sample into her travel kit. “Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Stark,” she purred. It had, in the end, taken _two_ more doses before she’d broken through. “I’m going to secure this, rather than take any more risks. I’ll be back in… twelve hours. Enjoy your time alone. You will be begging my forgiveness, aching for my touch, by the time I get back. Perhaps I’ll have pity.” She leaned down and kissed his mouth with her strange, dry lips.

Tony was already on the verge of calling her back, begging her for more. The relief had only lasted a few seconds before the fire crept back into his veins and curled around his cock. Unable to trust himself with words, he bit his lip so hard he tasted blood, curled his hands into fists and tried not to think about it. He failed, but he tried anyway.

His heartrate was so elevated it felt like he was running flat-out. His breath whistled in his throat, it was so fast. There was no way he could stay like this for twelve hours. He’d _die_ before Sarkissian returned.

Maybe that was what she wanted.

Fuck. This was not how he wanted to go.

She walked out without looking back, turning off the lights and locking the door behind her when she left. Leaving him utterly alone in the darkness. There was no way to tell time in the black, nothing to look at, or distract himself with. Just the air against his naked skin, the way his shirt was still half on, his pants still around his thighs. Spread out like an offering to some ancient deity that wasn’t much interested in the petty humans. Sweat trickled down his neck. He could practically see the trails it left on his skin. The impossible tickle left behind as it evaporated. It barely cooled his body, even for a moment.

“Fuck,” he panted, twisting at the restraints. God, if he could just get a hand on himself...

Fuck, he wanted Bucky. He wanted his husband’s hands and mouth and-- He moaned aloud. There were probably infrared cameras set up, watching him. A mike, too. Sarkissian was that kind of bitch.

Tony tried to focus on that, on the question of how the hell she’d come back, but he couldn’t. His thoughts were fogged by the bonfire in his veins, the raging heat of his groin. He wanted... he needed...

 _Hey baby, you need a hand with that?_ The ghost of Bucky’s voice in his ear was almost real. He could imagine the warm puff of air, the way Bucky would nuzzle at his jaw, tipping his head back. Lick the drops of sweat away, enjoying every bit of their lovemaking. Relishing it. He would touch Tony’s face, run one finger over Tony’s lip, leaving the taste of his skin behind. He could be teasing, and cruel sometimes, because Bucky often suffered from feeling like he didn’t deserve to have Tony, and he’d make Tony crazy with need. To brand it on both of them, how much they wanted each other, to make Tony promise and swear and beg, so that Bucky would _know_ he was loved. _I gotcha, doll. Lemme take care of you._

“Bucky, please,” he groaned. His wrists ached from pulling at the restraints. “Please.” Bucky would touch him, sweet and slow, that metal hand a cool balm on Tony’s fevered skin. “Need you,” Tony panted. “Touch me.”

 _Anything you want,_ Bucky would say. _Always wanna touch you._ He would kiss Tony, swallowing those cries and moans eagerly, his mouth warm and wet, slick tongue thrusting into Tony’s mouth, tasting sweet and human. He would thumb over Tony’s nipples, one warm, flesh hand, one cool, metal fingers. Careful, because he never wanted to hurt Tony, but eager, because Bucky was always eager. He would follow those hands with his mouth, leaving trails of fire down Tony’s chest until he nosed and nuzzled at Tony’s nipple, bringing the flesh there erect.

Tony arched into the imagined touch, pleading for more. “Bucky, honey, baby, please...” He rolled his hips, seeking friction. It felt like he’d go off with only the slightest touch. “Bucky, more.”

Bucky would find it hard to resist, whenever Tony was gasping his name, wanting to please. He would run his hand lower, cupping Tony light, letting him press against Bucky’s palm. If they were very careful, if Bucky didn’t move, sometimes he’d rut against the metal hand, cupped and held preternaturally still. Or sometimes, Bucky would pull out a gripless, rubber glove and slick it up, using his metal hand to jack Tony off until he was arching up, screaming Bucky’s name. _You know I love you, baby. Let’s see if you can wait a little longer._ And he would slow down, draw it out, but always with that intent, pleased look on his face, like Tony’s pleasure meant more to him than anything else. _Oh, come on then, baby, if you’re gonna. I got you. I got you._

Bucky would grip him a little more firmly, then, move a little faster, and, and, and-- Tony arched up off the table and screamed as he came, his climax moving through him like liquid fire.

In its wake, he felt almost cold, shivering and shuddering with the sudden relief. The come on his stomach was cooling rapidly, and Tony panted for breath, daring to hope that he would get a reprieve.

But then the heat came back, a warm little ember at the base of his spine, heating his balls. His cock twitched again, and even that movement ached from overstimulation. Tony clenched his teeth, but a whimper slipped through.

***

Ellie’s eyes were flame-orange as she peered ahead. “This one,” she said, finally, indicating one of a dozen floors in the sub-sub basement. “It’s all right.” Her hand hovered over the Winter Soldier’s shoulder, before deciding that touching him wouldn’t be wise. Instead, she twined her fingers with Rikki’s. “We’re almost there.”

The elevator opened, letting them out. Rikki shook off her girlfriend and took point. Her Stark made pistols came out and she fired twice, taking out two Hydra guards with ruthless efficiency. Sanction was in the building. Deep inside his own programming, Bucky allowed himself a smile of fatherly pride.

He didn’t know what the _fuck_ had happened to his husband, but that _thing_ that had called him on the phone wasn’t Tony. He knew his husband, and Tony had never, _ever_ treated Bucky to that press smile over a Skype call. Had never gone more than four hours without answering one of Bucky’s cheesy, flirty sexts. He certainly wouldn’t have said, “Hey, keep it in your pants for another two days, I’ll be home soon,” when Bucky send him a dick pic. Whatever that thing was that Nat and Clint took captive, it wasn’t _Tony_.

“It always seems like we’re cheatin’,” he told his daughter’s girlfriend, “when you’re with us. How many more?”

Ellie opened her eyes again. “Seven. Watch your eight o’clock, I don’t think that one’s human.”

“What th’ hell are they?”

Ellie shrugged. “I’ll let you know when someone decides to find out.” Some prophet she was, sometimes, but the Winter Soldier took her tactical advice and left the science to someone better qualified. They were going to rescue the _someone better qualified._ He was close. He was alive. Ellie promised, and that was all the Soldier cared about.

He rolled out into the corridor.

One, two.

Rikki came up beside him. Three. Four.

The one on his eight was fast, damn fast. And heavy, what the hell. It was like wrestling with the Thing. Or Wolverine. That short little fucker was _heavy_.

The Soldier went down under the weight, and then Sanction was there. A blade, he didn’t even know she was carrying one, popped out of her sleeve.

Instead of being sprayed with arterial blood, there was a crackle of electricity.

“Goddamn robot?” the Soldier gasped. Shoved it off, sparking and twitching. The headless, bloodless thing died like a roach, legs and arms flailing.

“Gross,” Ellie commented. “Hashtag yeet that fucker.”

The Soldier had no idea what that meant, but Rikki pitched the head down the hallway, and just in time, too, because it exploded on the second bounce, knocking them all over with the shockwave.

The Soldier kipped up, gave Ellie a hand. She staggered until both Sanction and the Soldier steadied her. “Stop babying me,” she said, smacking at their hands. “It’s _creepy_ when you’re both in mission-mode.”

The Soldier cocked his head. There was-- moaning? Coming from down the hall. “Did we get someon--” That wasn’t an enemy combatant. That was _Tony_.

“NO!” Ellie reached out and grabbed Sanction’s shoulder. “Just let him go, you don’t… don’t want to see this. Come on, let’s… clear out the rest of this snake pit, okay? Okay, Sanction? Come on, come on, this way.”

The Soldier wasn’t listening anymore, he was down the hall, pushing his way through the broken walls and stone, furniture from the floor above, crossing over the hole that dropped to the next level. He could smell Tony now, his sweat and… other fluids?

The Winter Soldier stopped dead in his tracks. The moans sounded like someone in pain, but also…

And accompanied by that _smell…_

Winter Soldier might have kicked the door in, but it was _Bucky_ who crossed the threshold, not sure what he was going to see.

Tony was strapped to a table, clothes pulled askew and half off. His skin was flushed, his hair matted with sweat. His chest heaved for breath, and Bucky’s sensitive hearing picked up a heartbeat that was far too fast, even accounting for probable fear. Come covered his belly, dripped down his sides to pool on the table, but his cock still stood out from his body, dark red with straining. Tony’s head turned in Bucky’s direction and his eyes were so dilated he couldn’t possibly actually focus. He squinted into the light, but his pupils didn’t contract at all. “Oh god,” he groaned. “Bucky... Is ‘at... Are you real?”

“Holy Christ, what th’ hell did they do to you?” Bucky dropped fully into his own body, only a brief shiver and an ache of cold in his belly remained of the Soldier. “Tony? Tony, babe?” He holstered his pistols, crossing the room in a few strides. Tony’s wrists were purple and raw with struggling. Bucky scowled, edged his left pinky into the tiny gap and yanked the cuff free. “What the hell?”

Tony stared at his freed hand with wide eyes, then looked back at Bucky. “You’re real.” His hand opened and closed and he dropped his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. His lip looked like he’d been gnawing on it. “Sarkissian,” he panted. “She’s back, I don’t know... Shot me up with something. She’s after more kids.” His hand shot out and groped at Bucky’s chest, grabbing onto the tac vest and pulling Bucky in closer. “Have to stop her. She got. Got a sample. Can’t let them have it.”

Bucky nodded. “Sanctions, copy that? Dr. Sarkissian possible bogie. Medical samples. See if you can get a fix on her while you’re blowing up th’ joint. I’ve got Stark. He’s in bad shape.” Bucky yanked the other cuff free. “I got you, Tony. I’m here, now.” He found a green blouse on the floor, picked it up. Everything south of his belly turned to ice, but he used the material to gently wipe the fluids off Tony’s body. Tony made a soft sound as Bucky swiped the fabric across his chest. “Did that hurt?” What the hell had Ophelia done to him? How was she even still alive. There was a strange pang in his chest about that. He’d _killed_ her, visceral and bloody.

Tony shook his head frantically. “Need... Sorry, I can’t... That stuff she gave me was some kind of... souped-up Viagra. Can’t think, can’t...” He whined through his teeth and grabbed at his cock, jerking it roughly.

Bucky’s eyes widened. Oh. _Oh!_ “Shit, that stuff,” he muttered. “Tony, hey--” Tony jerked against him, tucking his face into the safe crook of Bucky’s neck. “Yeah, okay, I got you, honey, you just… do what you need to do.” He’d barely gotten the words out before Tony was moaning in his arms, spilling over his hand and shuddering. “Oh, _honey_.” He stripped his glove off with his teeth and petted Tony’s hair gently, feathering through the sweat-damp tangle.

Tony huffed out a sound that was almost relieved, but he kept his face against Bucky’s neck. “Oh, god. How long have I been here? She said she’d be back in twelve hours. I don’t know if I can make it that long. I got four doses of that shit in me, and I can... shit, it’s already coming back.”

Bucky winced. Tony wasn’t a supersoldier. Fuck. Literally.

“How many--” He didn’t really want to know. She’d gotten a sample, Tony said. “Did she--” he swallowed hard, trying to block thinking about it, but getting the information he needed “--take a direct harvest?” He’d gone twelve times, and probably at least twice that dry, before it had all run out of his system, but Tony wouldn’t have nearly that much reserves. It could kill him. The drug had no mercy, had no counteragent that Bucky knew of. The only thing that gave any ease was sex. Penetrative, not oral or a handjob. Bucky couldn’t remember how many times he’d fucked Sarkissian until it was gone, but he was raw and aching for _days_ afterward.

“Direct...?” Tony seemed to get it, then. “No, she took a sample in a bottle and then left. Locked the door and left me here.” His breath hitched. “Oh, fuck, Bucky, I need...”

“Yeah, I know, baby, I know,” Bucky said, soothingly. “Hang on, lemme get you out of this rig.” There was a water bottle on the floor, half full. Bucky shoved it in Tony’s direction. “Drink, honey.” Ankle cuffs, too. Kept Tony’s legs spread, so he couldn’t get any friction on his own. Damn evil bitch, leaving him alone like this. Kill her twice, Bucky thought, vindictively. He wrenched the screws right out of the table, careful not to scrape Tony with the ends. “Ellie,” he said on the comms, “I need numbers. If I stay here, how long do we have before we’ve got snakes?”

Ellie made a squeaky, embarrassed sound in her throat. “Not enough time. Get him to the ‘jet. Take it on autopilot. Bex and I’ll take the long way home. Hashtag New York Minute. Make sure he drinks something.”

“Roger that,” Bucky said.

Tony’s breath was speeding up again. “Hydra incoming? What’s the plan?” He bit at his lip, wincing as his teeth scraped over already raw and bruised skin, but didn’t stop. His hands were curling and uncurling.

“Team Nuclear Winter will clear the viper pit,” Bucky told him. “Hang on, Tony, I’ll help you through one, and then I gotta get you out of here. Drink that, drink it.” He didn’t wait for Tony to do anything more than get the bottle near his mouth before he grabbed hold of Tony’s dick. Gentle as he could, and there was a lot of natural lube there to ease his way, but Tony still hissed when his fingers closed ‘round it. “You drink, I’ll do this.”

Tony whined, but he squeezed water into his mouth. He swallowed, and whimpered again. “Go light, honey, I’m a little sore.” Despite that, his hips rocked, thrusting into Bucky’s grip with desperation. “Fuck, I need, I need...”

“How long you been like this, you know?” Bucky scowled, then --”How many times you get off? Might give us somethin’ to track, know how much longer this’ll go on.” It didn’t take long, he didn’t even have to pull out any of his good tricks, although it would get more difficult to pull Tony to pitch as his body wore down. He gave a little twist at the end of his stroke and Tony shouted, shuddered. Bucky nuzzled at his throat, then bit Tony’s shoulder, right where it joined to his neck. A little pain, just a sharp zing, but he knew it would help. He wiped up the mess again.

Tony groaned and slumped against him. “That makes... five times, I think. Not sure how long.” He unscrewed the top from the bottle and lifted it to his mouth, gulping the water down until the bottle was empty. “This sucks.”

“Yeah,” Bucky said. “Been there, done that. Wanted to put a damn box around my dick for like the next week, and you know I ain’t got much emotions going on when I’m Soldiering. Crazy bitch. Let’s see if we can’t get you ready t’ move.” He tugged Tony’s slacks up, but didn’t bother buttoning them. They’d be too tight in no time, although at least for the moment, Tony was all the way limp again. That had to be a relief. Buttoned down the shirt and left the tails out. “I’m gonna pick you up, okay? There’s a pistol in the holster on my left side if you need to use it. Quinjet’s on the roof, three buildings away. Gonna go up the elevator, onto the roof, and jump. You let me know if you need to stop an’ take care of things, okay?”

Tony squirmed a little, testing his reach to the pistol, and then nodded. “Three buildings. I can probably make it that far. Though it’s already unfairly hot when you do that kind of thing, you know that.” He smiled a bit, trying to lighten the mood.

“I get you safely out of this hell hole and I’ll be as hot as you want me, baby,” Bucky told him. He wanted to kiss Tony, soothe him, but there was no time, and it would be a mistake, getting him stimulated right now. Bucky gave him a quick nod, and then they headed out. Tony was a hot water bottle against his chest, temperature elevated. He was still panting for air, sweating profusely and smelling like sex.

Hell with getting _Tony_ riled up, Bucky’s supersoldier dick was decidedly taking notice. Down, boy. He leaped over the hole in the floor. “You think she could be some sorta ‘bot? We took one down on th’ way here.” Giving both he and Tony something else to think about. Run, kick the door open. Tony shot one Hydra goon -- his aim wasn’t as good as Bucky’s, or Clint’s, but the man knew his way around firearms, and why did Bucky always forget that? The man built the goddamn things, of course he knew how to fire a gun.

Stairs were going to be murder on his calves, but safer than the elevator. Probably.

He dodged into the stairwell and started climbing.

“She might be a ‘bot,” Tony conceded as soon as they’d made sure the stairwell was clear. “But if she is, she’s a damned good one. She’d got all--” He made a soft sound in the back of his throat, then pushed on determinedly. “Got all Sarkissian’s memories, mostly, from what I could tell.”

“Dunno how else she could be back,” Bucky mused. “I know I wouldn’t survive that.” Tony was squirming and then trying to stop, writhing and messy and-- good Christ, Bucky couldn’t run fast enough. “Hang on tight, honey, big jump here.”

He did not usually jump carrying a fully grown adult. His arm hooked around Tony’s back and he locked the elbow in place. Running start and-- over the side, down, down. He landed on his toes, barely a centimeter from the edge and then pushed them forward. Nearly stumbled before he recovered. “Not far now, but we’re probably safe, if you need--” There really was no delicate way to put it. He ducked against the side of the little outbuilding, putting a few brick walls between them and Hydra’s base. “To wank.”

“Need it soon,” Tony admitted. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_. Gonna hurt.”

Bucky gave a quick scan of the area. “Here, we’re safe enough here, baby. Lemme hold you up, an’ you can fuck my mouth. It’s soft enough.” He gave Tony a quick wink, trying to keep it light. He wanted his husband, of course he did, he always did. And he did not want Tony thinking about bad things like consent issues and trust. He was just helping, the same way Tony would hold back Bucky’s hair if he got sick. Just the same.

Tony gave it a few seconds’ thought, then nodded. “Be better than my hand. And it won’t take long, not with this juiced-up whatever it is she gave me.” He managed some kind of smile. “Hey, sweetheart? Kiss me first.”

“Love you, baby,” Bucky told him. “You know that.” He nuzzled at Tony’s mouth, tasting him. Soft, slow licks, opening Tony’s mouth up to him. He had a tang of copper flavor and something dark underneath, probably a side effect of the drugs, but it was Tony, and there was no one else Bucky would ever want to touch, to kiss, to be with. He slid in, pushing Tony against the wall to hold him up. Tony was hard as steel, rocking against Bucky’s thigh with each tender flick of Bucky’s tongue.

Tony surrendered to the kiss like he needed it as badly as he needed to get off, though, sucking on Bucky’s tongue and then thrusting his own tongue into Bucky’s mouth, frantic and hungry. He kissed Bucky like he was starving, long after he’d started to whimper with each needy thrust of his hips.

“God, you’re sweet,” Bucky told Tony as he drew back. “I gotcha, you just go for broke, honey. Your down period’ll last longer if you… get enthusiastic.” Bucky gave him an apologetic shrug, then took several deep breaths, like he was going to go diving. Handed Tony the tail end of his shirt to get it out of the way and swallowed Tony’s dick without any preamble.

He tasted like sweat and come, but that was all right. Bucky licked at him, eager and making a soft, encouraging noise in his throat. He guided Tony in past his lips, opening up his throat. He cupped his right hand around the curve of Tony’s ass, rubbing at the muscles there, kneading them.

Tony started slow, then rapidly gained speed, his hand knotting in Bucky’s hair and his hips pistoning with determination and enthusiasm. “Oh god, baby, you feel so good,” Tony groaned. “God, I love you.”

Bucky tilted his head to gaze up at Tony. God, he was so beautiful, even in his weariness, just a perfect wreck of a man, and Bucky loved him. He brought Tony’s hand down to Bucky’s throat, so he could feel himself sliding in, the obscene bulge as Bucky swallowed him.

A flicker of shadow moved in Bucky’s peripheral vision, pinging along his nerves. He slanted his eyes in that direction, then back up at Tony, adoring him. He hummed, letting his mouth vibrate.

Put his metal hand against Tony’s balls, softly shifting them, through his slacks.

Tony choked out a groan and his rhythm stuttered. “Going to--”

Bucky gave out an encouraging sound, his hand moving from the front of Tony’s groin, across his own chest toward his gun holster.

Tony stiffened and Bucky drew the gun, snapping out his hand. He took aim, even as his tongue worked, and the first splashes of Tony’s spill hit the back of his throat when Bucky pulled the trigger, dropping the Hydra goon with a shot between the eyeballs. Blood splattered across the rooftop. The man was dead before his ears would even have heard the sound of Bucky’s pistol.

Tony whimpered as he pulled out of Bucky’s mouth. “Shit, ow, ow. Did you just shoot a Hydra agent while I was coming down your throat? That’s either the sexiest thing I’ve seen yet, or the most disturbing.” He pretended to consider it. “I’m going to go with sexiest.”

Bucky licked his lips. “Certainly one of the stupidest things I’ve ever seen one of ‘em try to do,” Bucky said. He wiped his chin off, holstered his gun. “He won’t do it again. You ready t’ go?”

“Yeah, I think I’m good for a little longer this time, it’s not creeping back in so fast.” Tony tugged his shirttails back down to cover himself up.

Bucky gave himself a discrete rub, trying to ease the ache in his own groin. His dick was starting to really complain about being left out of the party, annoying, persistent little fucker. Tony was barely standing, so Bucky scooped him back up. He cradled Tony against his chest, kissed his temple. “It’s okay, baby, it’ll be over soon. Jus’ hold on.” Got a running start and they were off again.

Bucky didn’t think he’d ever been so glad to see the slight wrunkle in the air that indicated a cloaked QuinJet. He bounced Tony once in his arms to get a better grip and tipped his head. “C’n you get my comms, baby?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Tony tugged the earbud out of Bucky’s ear and tucked it into his own. “Stark on comms,” he reported. “We’re at the ‘jet.”

The hatch dropped and Bucky took Tony aboard.

“Gotcha, Hot Rod Red,” Ellie said. In the background, Bucky could hear Rikki gagging. “We’re clearing out the infestation, and gonna go after Sarkissian after. You two be safe. Eat something!”

Bucky dropped the med-cot. “Stay here, I’ll get us airborne and on autopilot, come back for you.” He dropped a handful of protein bars and electrolyte drinks on the little table beside the cot. “Five minutes, promise.” He kissed Tony, hard and quick.

Tony clung to him for a moment longer, then took a deep breath and let him go. Tony snatched up one of the drinks and started chugging it thirstily.

Bucky moved as fast as he could, shucking his tactical gear and then getting the QuinJet ramped up to go. Preflight only took a few minutes, and then he punched up the autopilot. Leaned back and popped his ears a few times as cabin pressure adjusted. Using the lowest possible speed that would keep them out of trouble, activated the stealth mode. Time on target, three hours, twenty-seven minutes to the Avenger’s compound. Dropped a quick alert to Cho to be standing by in medical. Tony was likely to be dehydrated, no matter how much fluids he was pushing. Exhausted, if nothing else.

Bucky scrubbed his hands through his hair and then headed back to the small medical cot. Hoped to Christ that there was something in the med-kit they could use for lube.

 ***

Tony couldn’t decide whether the burn was beginning to fade a little or if he was just getting more used to it. It didn’t really matter -- he was still hot and desperate, even if he no longer felt like humping anything that would remain still enough. His dick was a bit chafed and raw, but still hard enough to pound nails. At least it wasn’t quite as oversensitive as before. Getting a bit of a break between rounds was helping a little.

He was on his third bottle of Gatorade when Bucky came back into the passenger compartment. He instantly lost all interest in the drink, his body drawn toward Bucky’s like a compass pointing north. “On our way?”

“About three hours to the Compound,” Bucky told him. He slung himself into the chair near the medcot already stripped out of most of his field gear, the black tank top clinging to his chest and the compression shorts outlining thick thighs. “Thought you might like some time to work this off before I go inflictin’ other people on you.” His storm-grey eyes flicked down Tony’s body, taking in his disheveled appearance.

“Yeah,” Tony breathed. God, his husband was gorgeous. “Feels like I could fuck for the whole three hours.”

“You might jus’,” Bucky said. He put one hand on Tony’s knee, giving his leg a little shake. “Lemme see what we got here. You think you got enough down time t’ get me prepped, or you want me to do it, quicklike?”

“I think if I let you do it, you’ll rush it and you won’t enjoy it as much,” Tony said. “Let me.”

Bucky made a brief face. “Ain’t hardly th’ point,” he said. “Don’t want you t’ have to suffer any more than you have to.” He dug around in the med kit. “Vaseline. Thought I’d seen th’ end of that. What you got’s so much _better_ , welcome to the future.” He sat back down and leaned into Tony’s space, nuzzling at Tony’s throat. “Whatever you need, baby, I’m here for you. Love you.” His mouth was busy on Tony’s neck, licking at the tender skin over the vein, teeth scraping along the edge of Tony’s jaw.

Tony let out a shuddery sigh and pulled off his shirt. “I’m already going to be rushing it,” he said, taking the Vaseline jar from Bucky’s hand. “And that _is_ the point. The point is that I always want you, I always want to make you feel good, and I definitely never want you to be hurting when you don’t have to be. Even when we’re in the middle of fucked up bullshit like this.” He dragged his hands down Bucky’s sides, enjoying the play of muscle there but feeling too urgent to linger, and slipped his fingers under the waistband of Bucky’s shorts. “Get these off for me?”

There was always something unfair about how smoothly Bucky moved, even making something as normally graceless as taking off compression shorts to be a dance and a tease. He rubbed at the red markings down his legs, creases and a few fresh bruises that would fade by evening. Another tug and the tank disappeared. “Lemme help you with this,” and he started peeling Tony out of the filthy remains of his suit.

Bucky’s hands on him were a sweet torture. Tony whined and shuddered, and then gritted his teeth against the sparks of fire under his skin and opened the Vaseline.

Tony dipped in two fingers and reached around Bucky’s hip to slide along his crack, seeking his hole. Bucky hadn’t been kidding about how much better real lube was; the Vaseline was too thick and was going to get tacky and sticky very quickly, but it was better than nothing.

Tony pushed one finger into Bucky up to the first knuckle, to keyed up to tease and relax him properly. Even that little bit of penetration ramped up the need. Tony pushed his face into Bucky’s shoulder again and tried to breathe through it, tried to focus on making Bucky feel good.

“It's alright baby,” Bucky told him. “Lemme do somethin’ for you.” He dipped his fingers into the jar and then reached for Tony's dick, sliding his hand up and down, almost too gently. “We'll take it just as quick or slow as you need.” Bucky spread his legs further, the two of them at cross purpose, reaching between them in a tangle. He canted his hips, practically levitating off the cot.

Tony half-sobbed at the gentle touch, rocking into it. “Bucky, god, Bucky, you... You’re so good to me. Don’t. Don’t let me hurt you.  Promise.” He pulsed his finger in and out, letting it slide a little deeper with each shallow thrust, waiting impatiently for the muscle to relax, needing it, needing Bucky like he needed air.

“You ain't never gonna hurt me,” Bucky said with an air of confidence. He gasped, rocked his hips against Tony's hand, face suddenly eager. He closed his eyes, straining. “Christ, Tony.”

Tony worked in as deep as he could get, then pulled out and started again with the second finger, stretching and scissoring as quickly as he could. God, he needed, he _needed_ , and Bucky’s light stroking was driving him mad, even if he’d go even more crazy if Bucky stopped. Every breath came out as half a sob, every breath felt like it was squeezed through a straw, every touch felt like fire and lightning. “Bucky, I need, I need you.”

Bucky nodded and pushed Tony back onto the cot. “Lay on back, doll, lemme take care of you,” he crooned. Bucky crawled over him, straddling Tony’s thighs. It was torture as Bucky lined them up, agony as Bucky braced against the wall, pushed himself down on Tony’s dick. He hissed, thighs quivering with effort, and then he was sliding down. “There, oh, there, Tony…”

“Oh god, Bucky, _please_ ,” Tony begged. Distantly, he recognized that this was good, the best way to make sure Bucky wouldn’t get hurt by Tony thrusting in too eagerly -- but his cock was demanding _more now_. He closed his eyes and reached up to circle his hands around Bucky’s wrists. “More, please, god... I need...” The fire was growing hotter, so hot he wasn’t sure he could stand it much longer. “Please!”

There was a deep squeeze as Bucky clenched around him, then--”ah, Tony… wait, wait, wai-- there.” Everything loosened up, suddenly, and Bucky arched back, sliding the rest of the way down until his body was flush with Tony’s thighs. “Oh, doll, that’s…” He flexed, rose up, and came back down. “Oh, you got it baby, I’m good.” Bucky bounced again, hips shifting to ease the pressure, and Tony couldn’t wait any longer. Bucky moved with him, deep, powerful thrusts, matching everything that Tony could deliver.

Tony was exhausted from hours of desperation, aching from coming more times in one day than he’d ever managed before, but he still couldn’t help but enjoy the look on Bucky’s face, the sounds coming from Bucky’s throat. He moved his hands to Bucky’s hips, gripping tightly and pulling Bucky down as he thrust up, the pain of chafing and overstimulation fading into building bliss.

“I gotcha, Tony,” Bucky told him. He leaned down, changing the angle between them, to kiss Tony. Hard and fierce, matching Tony’s strokes with his tongue, licking the sounds out of Tony as he made them. “So good, baby, I got you, you’re so sweet. Feels so good.” He kissed across Tony’s cheek, licked the shell of his ear, nipped at the lobe.

It built slower this time, either because he was tired or because the drug was finally working its way out of his system. But it built nonetheless. Soon, Tony was panting for breath again, balanced on the edge. “Bucky, I...” He wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock, let every thrust push Bucky into his hand. “You too, honey, come with me. Come for me, oh god, oh god, _now_ , I’m--!” He arched up, his climax rolling over him like hot steam in a sauna, washing through his limbs and rendering them boneless.

“Oh, _fuuuck_ ,” Bucky yelled, shuddering all over, his body clenching up. His cock jerked in Tony’s hand, and then, he was painting Tony’s chest and belly with ribbons of come, crying out with bliss. “ _Christ_ , Tony.” He kept himself propped up, metal arm making a faint squealing noise as he locked it in place. Bucky patted Tony gently, stroking his arms, his shoulders, tracing across one cheek, with the other hand. “You are so beautiful.” He shifted, a little. “How’re you feelin’?”

Tony took stock, pausing, waiting to feel that heat rekindling in his groin. But all he really felt was, “Tired.” He stretched gingerly, muscles aching from unaccustomed tension, then pulled Bucky down to him for a slow kiss. “We got time for a nap before we land?”

Bucky lifted up a little, checked the time. “About an hour an’ a half or so, an’ then time t’ clean up.” He nuzzled at Tony’s mouth again. “Sleep, hon. Wake me, if’t builds up again. Always be here for you.”


End file.
